


The Road Not Found

by eveyinboxes



Series: A Constant State of Florida [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, M/M, Pining, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, american author attempting to use british colloquialisms, cant help being an english major, classic poetry references, dream team living together what could possibly go wrong, emotionally constipated georgenotfound, george and quackity besties, mentions of whoever dream was singing about in roadtrip, quackity is profoundly wise, romanticization of florida, this is lowkey 90 day fiancé but without the fiancé part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29903082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveyinboxes/pseuds/eveyinboxes
Summary: "Why?" Dream asked, his voice soft.George met his gaze, his eyes bright and hazy in the moonlight, and he knew he would probably go his whole life and never feel this way again. It would be so easy, giving in to the inevitable. But he couldn't. He already knew how this would end."Because I'm ready for this," George replied. "And you're not."
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: A Constant State of Florida [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198775
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	The Road Not Found

George had always seen the world in muted colors.

His home life growing up hadn't been unhappy, but it had never been particularly happy, either. Looking back, he could only ever remember doing things that he thought he was supposed to do. He’d gotten decent grades in school, gone to university, gotten a degree, been in relationships— none of which he’d done because he’d wanted to, or because he’d had any sort of end goal in mind, but because he’d simply been going along with the dull, natural flow of life. That was just how it had always been for him. He had never been the sort to want anything in particular, or have dreams.

In fact, for as long as he could remember, he’d only ever had one.

Maybe that was why his expectations were so high. After all, if you’d only really wished for one thing your whole life, if you’d laid in bed fantasizing about it every night before falling asleep for years upon years, you’d sort of hope the moment it all came to fruition would be something special. Ideally, when he finally, _finally_ stepped foot into America, his world would burst into technicolor. Everything would fall into place, everything would feel _right._ It would feel like coming home.

Reality wasn’t quite the same as his imagination, though. As it turned out, when he walked out of the airport and into the open air of Florida, USA, the only thing he felt was really, really, _fucking hot._

“Okay, no,” he said immediately, feeling every inch of his skin become sticky with sweat within seconds. Stepping out of the Orlando airport was sort of like taking the lid off of a pot of boiling water and being met with a face full of suffocating steam. “Nope, this is ridiculous, I’m going home.”

“ _Oh my god, how are you _already_ complaining?_” Sapnap said exasperatedly from his end of the phone line. “ _Has something displeased you, your highness?_ ”

George jammed his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he struggled to remove his sweatshirt as quickly as possible. How foolish of him, to come prepared for autumn weather in October. “It’s _sweltering,_ ” George whined. “Ugh, hurry up. I literally think my lungs are going to malfunction.”

Sapnap sighed. “ _So dramatic,_ ” he said. “ _What’s your gate number?_ ”

George glanced at the sign above him, squinting against the unbearable sunlight beating down on him. “Seventy-four,” he read. He looked out at the sea of cars picking up passengers in front of him. “What’s your car look like?”

Sapnap didn’t respond for a moment, and when he did, George could _hear_ the grin on his face. “ _I see you,_ ” he said, giddy. “ _Two seconds._ ” The line went dead.

George sighed dramatically, scanning the cars to see if he could spot Sapnap from the driver’s seat of any of them. Before he could manage to see anything at all, though, he suddenly felt something crash into him from the side, knocking over his suitcase and nearly George himself in the process. “ _SAPNAP,_ ” he complained, loudly, attracting more than a few looks from the crowd around them. “Oh my god, can this _please_ wait until we get into the air con?”

Sapnap just pulled him tighter into the hug, ignoring his groans of protest. “Dude, shut up. I don’t even care,” he said. “I’m so happy to see you.”

George sighed, but he was grinning despite himself as he shoved Sapnap away from his overheated body. “Yeah, yeah. Me too,” he said. He stepped slightly closer and brought his hand up above their heads to compare. He held back a laugh as he watched Sapnap’s expression shift in realization.

“Don’t even—” Sapnap started warningly.

“I’m taller,” George said.

“Okay, no, first of all,” Sapnap said, smacking George’s hand away. “I have on sandals and you’re wearing— wait, did you seriously wear 97s on a _flight?_ I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Because you’re jealous?” George asked, sticking his lip out in a mocking pout. Sapnap rolled his eyes, and George couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him. Sapnap followed soon after, and the two of them stood there and giggled like children until airport security told Sapnap to move his car out of the pick-up lane before it was towed.

It was weird, how not weird it was. Like hanging out with Sapnap, in-person and face-to-face, was something he’d done every day for years now. He kept waiting for it to hit him, that overwhelming, climactic feeling he’d imagined all this time, but it never came. He just felt… comfortable. Like he was finally content after being restless for a long, long time.

It was nearly an hour long car ride from the airport to the house, most of which George spent nodding off in the passenger seat while Sapnap sang along to the radio. The jetlag was starting to set in, and he was looking forward to spending the next day or so sleeping soundly in the room they had set up for him.

“You’re so quiet,” Sapnap said suddenly, snapping George out of his dozing state. “Don’t you have anything to say? How does it feel, finally being here?”

George squinted in thought. “I think,” he said slowly. “It hasn’t really set in yet.”

“Are you nervous?” Sapnap asked. 

“About?”

“Seeing Dream.”

George paused, lifting his head off the window and sitting up in his seat. “I don’t know,” he answered, honestly. “What is there to be nervous about?”

“Dunno, I mean, you’ve never even seen his face,” Sapnap pointed out. That one caught George off guard; almost like he’d forgotten, somehow. Which shouldn’t have been possible, considering how big of a goddamn deal Dream had made of it.

“ _I’m not coming to the airport,_ ” Dream had said, matter-of-factly, during their last voice call before George had packed up his computer.

“ _Wow,_ ” George had replied flatly. “ _You can’t be bothered?_ ”

“ _No no no,_ ” Dream had said, placatingly, the way he always did when he knew George was close to getting irritated with him. “ _It’s just that I wouldn’t be able to leave the car in case you or Sapnap got recognized, and I’m not gonna have you see me for the first time from inside of a car. That’s stupid. It’s gotta be special._ ”

The two of them were so very different, in that way. Every moment was an event for Dream, an accomplishment, a dream realized. He wasn’t just drifting through life, he was setting off fireworks with every step.

“Oh, that,” George finally responded. He shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter.”

Sapnap side-eyed him. “How does it not _matter?_ ” he asked in disbelief. “It’s so _weird._ Like, what do you picture when you think of him?”

George blinked, wracking his brain for an answer. It was something he’d never really thought about. Or maybe he had, once upon a time, but after a certain point he’d just… stopped. He knew Dream, knew everything about him from his favorite food to the brands of clothes he wore to the way his breathing changed when he was tired. He supposed he was aware, logically, that there was a face attached to that person, but at some point the thought had just no longer crossed his mind. “I just… picture… Dream,” he said, lamely.

He expected Sapnap to say his response was stupid, or something of the sort, but instead he looked thoughtful. “Okay,” he said, like he understood, somehow. And then, “are you gonna break up with him if he’s ugly?”

“You’re so annoying,” George said, flatly, and Sapnap laughed like a funnier joke had never been told. His laugh sounded different, in person. It was nice.

Dream and Sapnap had sent George plenty of pictures of the house when they’d been picking it out, but he hadn’t really cared much at the time, more concerned with the _this is a house the three of us are going to be living in together_ than the _this is what it looks like._ When they finally pulled into the driveway, his first thought was that it was bigger than he’d expected. Bigger than it needed to be, probably, but Dream had never been one for understatement. 

It had a clay roof, and palm trees in the front, and a screened-in patio off to the side that he thought probably contained a swimming pool. It was almost like a movie set of a stereotypical Florida home. Except it was real, and he was here.

“Welcome home,” Sapnap said brightly, in that excited voice he sometimes used that George would never admit was cute.

“It’s not home yet,” George pointed out. “I might hate it here. I already hate the weather.”

Sapnap sighed loudly. “God, you’re so negative,” he said. “Just get out, I’ll help you with your bags.”

George glanced at the door handle, but made no move to grab it. He told himself it was because he was hesitant to leave the air con, but if he was being honest, he was beginning to think Sapnap might not have been too far off with his line of questioning earlier. For years now there had been a few consistent truths in his life: he had two American best friends he had never met, one of whom he’d never even seen, and their relationship consisted entirely of video games and Discord calls. It was just… strange, knowing that in minutes, none of that would be true any longer. It was always a bit sad, watching eras end.

Then, suddenly, he caught movement from the front door of the house out of the corner of his eye, and he stopped thinking. He pulled open the car door, his nerves replaced by pure adrenaline as he locked eyes with the person standing in the doorway.

It felt sort of like going over the first drop of a rollercoaster. His stomach dropped, his breath escaped him, but it felt _exhilarating;_ a satisfying result of slowly clicking up a hill for so, so long. “…Dream?” he asked, pointlessly, because he already knew the answer.

Dream’s face broke into a blinding smile, and it looked how George had always imagined it would, all those times he’d heard him wheeze into his headset over the years. And it was at that moment that it finally happened, that feeling he’d been waiting for this whole time. The feeling of his life changing forever, the dramatic, overwhelming feeling of _finally_. He realized, then, that maybe his dream, that one thing he’d fantasized about before falling asleep night after night, hadn’t been coming to America at all. Maybe it had been this.

Before he knew it, he was running, meeting Dream halfway in the driveway and jumping into his arms, laughing in pure joy and disbelief. “Hey,” Dream breathed, and George _knew_ that voice, he knew it better than he knew his own name. 

He felt dizzy when Dream finally set him down, still holding onto the other boy’s arms like he was afraid he’d disappear if he let go. He leaned back and took in the sight of his best friend for the first time. He had more freckles than George had imagined, scattered across the bridge of his nose and along his cheekbones. According to Dream his eyes were green, but George thought he could see at least three different colors within his stormy irises, blue standing out most prominently as it always tended to. His hair, also, seemed to have difficulty sticking with one shade; dark at the roots but light at the ends, with sun highlights running throughout. It made sense, really, that every part of Dream would be colorful.

“I… see you,” George said, finally speaking up. Dream laughed, and it was colorful, too.

“Is it weird?” he asked, running a hand through his hair a bit self-consciously.

George shook his head. “No,” he said, honestly. “Not weird.”

“Are you guys gonna kiss?” Sapnap asked dryly, and just like that, the moment was over. George cleared his throat, embarrassed, suddenly.

“We might,” Dream said. “You want one too?”

“Hell yeah,” Sapnap said, moving over to join them with George’s luggage in tow.

Dream glanced between them, his grin getting impossibly bigger and his eyes shining. “Guys,” he said, and if his voice cracked a bit neither George nor Sapnap mentioned it. “The three of us are finally together.”

George felt warmth spread in his chest, and thought, _everything is perfect now._ And then, immediately after, _everything is going to go wrong._ He shook the thought off with a frown, unsure of where it had come from.

“Yeah,” he said, trying not to think too much, and failing, as usual. “Finally.”

—

George probably could trace the source of the bad feeling in his gut, though, if he really tried. Nuisance, thy name is Quackity.

“ _Holy shit,_ ” Quackity had said, his voice distorted in that way that meant he was using Discord on his phone. “ _You’re actually coming here."_

It had been a wet, muggy August day in England, and George had never been happier in his entire life. He remembered that his cheeks had hurt from smiling, that day. He remembered that it had taken all of his willpower not to pull up the flight confirmation and stare at it until his eyes went blurry. “I am,” he’d replied, giddily. “It’s official.”

Quackity hummed thoughtfully. Not exactly the reaction George had expected, but the other boy got in those moods, sometimes, when his seemingly endless supply of energy and enthusiasm finally hit E, and he became uncharacteristically quiet and thoughtful. George thought that this was probably the version of Quackity who would be standing on the other side of a witness stand one day. “ _That’s awesome, dude. I’m so happy for you,_ ” he’d said, sincerely. And then, after a brief pause: “ _So, where are we meeting up?_ ”

“Ah… well,” George had replied, his enthusiasm dropping slightly as he cleared his throat awkwardly. “That’s the thing, it’s— it’s kind of temporary, for now. We decided we’d do like, a trial run, before I went through the whole visa process and everything, so I can only stay for ninety days. And…”

“ _And Dream wants you all to himself for three months,_ ” Quackity had said, sounding remarkably unsurprised. “ _Got it._ ”

“Sapnap will be there too,” George had said quickly.

“ _Hey, can I be honest with you?_ ” Quackity continued, as if George hadn’t said anything. “ _I’m like… stressed. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve kind of been dreading this._ ”

George had sighed, feeling his mood dip even lower. “I don’t know how to not take that the wrong way,” he'd replied flatly.

“ _Look, you and Dream meeting just feels like… a nuke dropping, or something,_ ” Quackity said, and George had rolled his eyes all the way back in his head at the dramatics. “ _The two of you are weird. You know what I mean, right?_ ”

“No, I don’t,” George had lied.

—

Back in real time, George woke up.

It only took a few moments for everything to come back to him, Sapnap and Dream and Florida, but confusion remained as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings in the dark. The last thing he remembered, he’d been sitting on the futon in Sapnap’s room, listening to Dream ramble on from topic to topic from his perch on the edge of the bed while Sapnap occasionally asked them for chess advice from his computer. He remembered being completely exhausted, but unwilling to go to bed. He remembered wanting to stay in that moment forever.

Now, though, he was in what he vaguely recognized as the room they’d shown him during the house tour and told him was his. He kicked the duvet off in disgust and stumbled toward the window, opening it and sighing in relief as the cooler night air washed over him. Florida nights didn’t seem so bad, at least.

He grabbed his phone to check the time. He was wide awake now, and it was five in the morning. Oh well. It wasn’t like he’d ever had a normal sleep schedule, anyway.

He scrolled through his notifications, his eyes immediately landing on a text message from Dream. It made his stomach swoop, the thought that it had been sent from somewhere in the very same house. 

_lmk when you wake up_

George immediately messaged back, no doubt in his mind that the other boy would still be awake. In their current sleep schedule, George usually went to bed around noon, meaning Dream went to bed at seven in the morning. What a life.

_ok_

He scrolled through his phone a bit more, laying back on the bedspread that had already been set up when he’d arrived. The only ones who even knew about George coming to America were Quackity, Karl, and Bad, and they’d all sent hundreds of messages in their shared Discord while he was asleep. He vaguely scrolled through, opting to reply to their endless stream of questioning later. There was one text message from his sister. Nothing from either of his parents.

“George.”

George jumped so hard he almost fell out of his bed, scrambling to sit up and pressing a hand to his chest. “Jesus _christ_ ,” he hissed, catching a glimpse of wavy hair outside of his open window. “Why are— what are you doing?”

Dream chuckled, and George had to look away from his smile, overwhelmed. “Come out,” he said. “The windows of our rooms both lead out to the roof, it’s cool.”

George sighed exasperatedly, but got up and moved toward the window, anyway. Dream reached out a hand to help as he climbed through, and George accepted the assistance before quickly letting go, embarrassed for whatever stupid reason.

Dream moved to sit on the clay tiles of the roof, looking out toward their backyard. George followed, drawn to his side like a magnet. “Well?” Dream said, nodding out toward the open air. Their yard wasn’t particularly big in itself, but there was a golf course and a small lake in the near distance, making the area feel open and massive. “How’s Florida?”

George lifted one shoulder in reply. “I don’t know. I’ve barely seen anything,” he replied honestly. “It’s hot.” Dream chuckled again, and George knew better than to look, this time.

“Not right now, though,” Dream pointed out. It was true. The temperature must have dropped at least ten degrees with the sunset.

“No,” George agreed. “Right now is nice.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. After a few moments, he felt Dream’s eyes burning into the side of his head. It took everything in him not to turn and meet his gaze, to spend more time picking out all of the colors in his bright eyes. That would probably be weird. “I still can’t believe it,” Dream said.

“Yeah,” George replied. He did meet Dream’s gaze, then, his heart stuttering just once before returning to calm. “It doesn’t feel real.”

Dream stretched and laid back against the tiles with a dramatic, content sigh. “I feel like… I don’t know,” he mused. “Like my heart was split into three pieces this whole time, and now it’s finally whole.”

George cringed so hard he nearly bit his tongue. “Eugh," he groaned. "How can you even say something like that with a straight face?"

Dream grinned up at him, unabashed. “Oh, come on,” he said. “If there was ever a time for you to admit you love me, it’s now.”

“Guess it’s never happening, then,” George immediately replied. Dream gave him a cocky, knowing look. George had imagined that look so many times before.

“It’ll happen,” Dream promised.

“Anyway,” George said.

“Anyway,” Dream agreed. “I'll make Florida feel like home to you in ninety days, trust me. You're gonna love it here.”

George hummed. “Maybe. I’ve heard you’re pretty decent at speedrunning,” he said. Dream let out a short, surprised laugh, like he was caught off guard by the joke. George couldn’t help but smile. George couldn’t help but imagine staying like this, next to Dream on the clay roof, forever.

It wasn’t until much later, when the sun had fully risen and they’d finally returned inside, that George came to the realization that someone must have carried him to his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!! i'm super excited about this fic :))) i have all of the chapters planned out and everything from beginning to end so updates should be pretty quick!
> 
> i have a million more things to say but this is just the beginning, so i'll save it for later. see you soon! :)


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